


In the Quiet of Unusual Normalcy

by moonlightskies (blossomclouds)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sharing Clothes, Squib Louis Weasley, Squibs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22721533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blossomclouds/pseuds/moonlightskies
Summary: Scorpius and his friends crash at Louis' place for the night. In the morning it's just the two of them and Scorpius' mortifying habit of blushing under the scrutiny of pretty people.
Relationships: Scorpius Malfoy/Louis Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	In the Quiet of Unusual Normalcy

**Author's Note:**

> as a little exploration of a personal headcanon and writing exercise, written for the true love challenge by the [hprarepairnet]() for valentine's day!

In the light of day there was little Scorpius could do to resist crawling back under the blankets. The  flat he'd woken up in was in disarray. It only looked worse now that the sun had peaked over the horizon.

With a heavy sigh, Scorpius slumped his head back onto the pillow and rubbed a hand over his face. At least he hadn’t drunk anything last night.

The same could not be said for either Rose or Albus. Once Scorpius had located his wand and pulled on one of the shirts in his immediate vicinity, he found them both on the couch in the adjoining room. Rose’s hair was tangled and ratty spread out over a throw pillow and Albus was curved around the left armrest. Scorpius yawned and smiled at their scrunched-up faces. The last bottle of beer they’d shared, and not quite finished, was still perched on the coffee table.

“They were giggling all through the night.”

Scorpius jumped.  Through the haze of tacit wakefulness his body was nonetheless quick in its response. His throat closed up and he flushed.  _ A fair complexion like your father,  _ his mother had always used to say.  _ A curse of its own, but to the right person it will be the sweetest thing in the world, you’ll see. _

“Morning,” said Louis Weasley. “Don’t worry, I made them each drink a glass of water before they could fall asleep.”

The doorframe he was leaning against was the way through to the kitchen. The smell of coffee wafted through the air and Scorpius blinked as he took it in, foggier and more surreal than any alcohol-induced sensation his friends could have fallen victim to. Behind Louis the sun was rising.

“Oh,” said Scorpius. “Thank you.”

Louis was one of two to have inherited his mother’s silver hair. Not the white blond of the Malfoys or the grey- ish hue of age – silver. Scorpius sort of resented it, especially on Louis, especially at this time of day, and especially with the memory of helping his friends into the  flat with Louis smiling at him from behind the door. He had a great smile. Scorpius resented that, too.

He looked back at the bedroom he’d come out of. “Where, uh, where did you sleep?” he asked, and smoothed a hand over his hair the way his father did sometimes. Before he'd been able to protest Louis had ushered him into his own room last night and told him to make himself comfortable while Albus had lifted Rose in the air and spun her around in the back. He'd been asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

“Oh, I have an air mattress, I put it next to the couch,” said Louis. Scorpius didn’t know what an air mattress was but he nodded nonetheless. “Do you want some breakfast?”

“Yes. Thank you," he said. His stomach fluttered as he resisted the urge to squirm at his desperate formality.

He stepped around his sleeping friends carefully. Already dressed, in black trousers and a loose shirt with a printed muggle reference, Louis moved through his kitchen with practiced ease. The table was halfway set. Louis gestured for him to sit with another smile.

Around them, the noises were deeply foreign. They never ate in the kitchen at home and the few times he’d visited the Burrow or Harry’s and Ginny’s place the kitchen had always been a hive of bustling activity. It was quiet here, but not as quiet as a dining room could be. Many of the applications emitted a steady humming sound, the ceiling shook from the noise of the upstairs neighbors sometimes, and Louis looked at home between all of it.

Now he laughed quietly. “This is odd for you, huh?”

“What?” Scorpius turned his head too quickly, and blushed again when he met Louis’ eyes.

He caught no judgment there, though, only intense curiosity. The hair he might have inherited from his mother, but the eyes were all his father. “You haven’t been here before, right? Or at any muggle’s place.”

“You’re not a muggle."

He shrugged. “I prefer muggle over squib if I’m being honest.”

“Oh,” said Scorpius. His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. He reached for the basket of bread and the butter with both his hands. The apology he was thinking up got stuck halfway up his chest. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like it here. Louis had carved himself a comfortable corner, one that seemed to fit him like a glove. Scorpius found it hard to imagine him with a wand and a thousand chores getting done in the background instead of this curiously still set of rooms and the dishes piled up next to the sink for them to dry.

“So did you sleep well?” Louis took a hearty bite of his toast. “I haven’t made my bed in ages. Sorry if there was a bit of a smell.” 

“There wasn’t,” said Scorpius. In  fact he didn’t remember if there had been. Looking at Louis took up most of his usually so crammed thinking space. “It was all fine.”

“Yes, I suppose it couldn’t have been that bad,” said Louis. “You’re still wearing my shirt after all.”

Scorpius dropped his toast. He lowered his eyes down to his torso. The white shirt that so closely resembled his own from last night had a faded grey slogan on it that Scorpius didn’t recognize. His heart skipped. He shook his head in the faint hope of keeping the heat off his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, halfway out of his seat. “I’ll go change.”

Louis waved him off. “I don’t mind. It’s my own fault if I leave everything lying around. You can change later if you want.”

Scorpius hesitated. He didn’t want to wake Albus or Rose, he reasoned, and Louis just didn’t seem to care. He was looking down at his new slice of toast. Slowly, Scorpius sank back onto the chair.

“Sorry,” he repeated. “Thank you for letting us stay over.”

“Of course.” Louis raised his eyes. There was amusement buried there, but it was different than how James and Albus looked when they exchanged conspiratorial glances. All the Weasleys, Scorpius had learned early on, had some version of that same look. Victoire narrowed her eyes, James smirked, and Lily scrunched up her nose. Louis was more subtle than all of them. He wasn’t shy in looking Scorpius in the eye, but beyond his shallow smiles he wasn’t overly expressive.

_ I could look at him for hours,  _ Scorpius thought,  _ until I’ve puzzled him out. _

He averted his eyes and pressed a hand to his cheek. It was still warm. But thinking about it only ever made it worse.

“It’s not a bad look,” said Louis. The only part of him Scorpius could see were his hands pushing at his plate. He didn’t dare move. “Blushing like that, it’s cute.”

Scorpius blushed even more. He tried to wave just as casually as Louis had when he’d stopped him from  changing. “No, it isn’t. My father never does it. It’s quite—” He broke off.  _ Girlish,  _ he’d wanted to say, but Rose had hit him over the head for that in the past. “Quite undignified,” he finished.

With a jerk of his head, he looked up. Louis leaned back in his chair and turned on one of his cautiously loose smiles. “Dignity tends to be overrated.” He shrugged. “My mother is the most dignified person I know and my father always tells us that he fell for her when she was covered in dirt and swearing like a  very French sailor.”

Scorpius laughed. From where he’d retreated, Louis joined in and bent to put his elbows back on the table.

_ A fair complexion like your father,  _ Scorpius’ mother had always used to say.  _ Somebody will grow to love that very much. _


End file.
